Broken Open
by Dimitri A
Summary: Nathan goes home with Dwight after the incident at the police station and learns that some people are more 'troubled' than others. Being a handy man, for Dwight, is maybe a little bit skill and a little bit destiny. Dwight/Nathan. Note: Bumped rating
1. Super Bad

Super Bad

Super Bad

Dwight's apartment was over top of the hardware store, which the blond said was more a matter of convenience than preference. Nathan pulled in between two vehicles, one the van he was used to seeing Dwight in and the other an older looking green pickup. The truck, Nathan noted, was loaded down with wires, buckets, and wood.

"Yours?" He asked once he'd walked over to meet the taller man at the door.

The other man glanced to the side then nodded. "For smaller jobs. Not everything calls for me to have yards of wire, body sized garbage bags, and crossbow bolts."

Nathan smiled slightly. "Just the ones I call you for."

"If that's what you want to think." This was punctuated with a twisting of lips that was almost, but not really, a smile. Not for the first time Nathan got the feeling that Dwight knew more than he was sharing and not for the first time he felt the flash of annoyance at that.

He wasn't sure what to make of Dwight and the man's more or less self-declared position of 'fixer' in his life. The blond had never really asked if Nathan needed his unique skill set to deal with the troubles, but had simply continued to do what he'd done when Nathan's father was alive. It irritated him more than a little bit; he didn't like that his father had kept Dwight hidden from him and he didn't like that the other man was out there 'fixing' Trouble related incidents that Nathan wasn't aware of. Worse still, he was handling these incidents and wasn't keeping Nathan informed of them.

The thing that really and truly got to Nathan, above all else, was that he needed Dwight. Things were only getting worse, bodies were starting to accumulate, and with the Reverend and this random shadowy organization targeting him Nathan didn't know how much longer he could keep the people in Haven safe from the outside world. Dwight was invaluable in Nathan's attempts to keep their town safe and, as angry as his interference made him, he couldn't afford to continue on without him.

And that was the reason he was here, outside of his apartment, engaging in half-assed conversation instead of being at his own place, sleeping away what was left of the utter clusterfuck today had been.

He'd wanted Dwight to go to the hospital but the other man had adamantly refused. He'd insisted that he'd been fine, having taken all of the shots to his bulletproof vest. Besides, and her Dwight had graced him with a look that was vaguely scathing, it wasn't like he could go down to the ER and say he'd been shot 12 times but was fine because he was troubled and so never left home without safety gear. Nathan had grumbled for a bit, until Dwight had finally told him he was more than welcome to follow him home and see for himself.

Nathan was pretty sure the other man hadn't been serious at all and had been mocking his 'concern' but he'd taken him up on the offer nonetheless. The last words spoken between them were an annoyed huff from Dwight to the tune of 'Your father never did this.'

In a strange way that made Nathan feel justified. He respected his father and had, in his own way, come to terms with the many things that had been left unsaid and hidden between them, but he wasn't his father. He wouldn't be taking the same hands off approach his father had been so fond of.

Dwight pushed open the door then stood to the side, using his body to keep it open for Nathan. Past the door there was a small area, barely big enough for Dwight to stand in, and then a set of stairs leading up and a set leading down. He inclined his head towards the narrow stairs leading up. "I have to grab some things out of the van. The door's open."

Nathan brushed past him, shoulder and arm connecting with the other man's chest, while casting a slightly amused look at Dwight. Heat tickled at his arm, seeping through the sleeve of his shirt. "You don't lock your…"

He put a foot on the bottom stairs then froze, mind that was once again used to not associating with his sense of touch catching up with his body. The words died in his mouth and for a moment all he could do was stare straight ahead.

"Err. Nathan?"

He turned on Dwight, hand coming up and colliding with the other man's chest. He pushed the blond back, unthinkingly crowding into his companion. Dwight's eyebrows shot up, becoming part of his hairline, even as he allowed himself to be shoved against the door.

"You're warm." The words burst out of Nathan's mouth before he could stop them, shock kicking his usual thoughtful nature in the teeth and taking over. The taller man was warm and solid; Nathan could _feel_ his heart thrumming just under his fingertips.

Dwight's eyes cut over to the side for a moment then found their way back to Nathan. "I do tend to be around human body temperature, yes."

"No." Nathan said, brow furrowing further. "I mean-"

"I know what you mean." Dwight slapped his hand away, the sudden sting making Nathan draw back and stare down at his hand. The pain vanished, as if it had never been there at all, and he felt nothing. "Come on. I'll explain."

It didn't take long for Nathan to be seated on Dwight's couch, a beer in his hand. He wasn't drinking it and was instead staring at the bottle, watching condensation drip down its frosty exterior and over his hand. It might as well have not been there for all that he felt it from it. No weight, no pressure, no chill…just the usual nothingness that he had come to expect from things.

When he was younger and had gone through the troubles for the first time he'd had trouble holding onto things, being unable to make him hand conform to objects or make his brain 'accept' that he was holding onto things. He had to stare at things, watch his hand close around them, and then watch himself hold them least he accidently let go. Many glasses had shattered in his home.

He'd adapted better this time around, a strange form of muscle memory having kicked in.

He was grateful for it. When he first realized he couldn't feel again he's been afraid he would hurt himself or worse, hurt someone else. He didn't know his own strength anymore couldn't tell if he was gripping too hard or feel his gun in his hands anymore. But somehow his brain had filled in the gaps, making it easy to go about things as normal.

Aside from the lack of feeling of course.

Until realizing that he could feel Audrey's touch he'd even come to not be bothered by his affliction. Well… no, he couldn't say he wasn't bothered by it, but he could say he'd come to not wake up in the morning wishing he was anywhere but Haven and anyone but whom he was. He'd been able to go about his life. But then Audrey had shown up and he'd been subject to brief snatches of human touch, moments of being painfully aware of what he was missing, ever since.

He'd been briefly cured and then made the choice to return to his cursed state to help someone else, but doing so had left a…hollow feeling in him. He knew he'd done the right thing, but he didn't feel good about it. He didn't feel anything about it, really, and that worried him. He couldn't help but be afraid that his curse was spreading somehow and beginning to affect not just his body but his emotions as well.

What if he became as unfeeling on the inside as he was on the outside?

Dwight was sitting across from him in a chair he'd pulled away from the bar that divided his small kitchen from his equally small living room. The wall that didn't have a couch or a bay window taking up the entirety of it was made up of a built in entertainment system. A TV sat there but, judging by the thick covering of dust and the plug hanging off to the side it hadn't been used in quite some time.

"So. I suppose you'd like some kind of explanation."

"I can feel you. I can't feel anything or anyone." Nathan wasn't one to be derailed easily.

"Aside from Audrey, you mean." Dwight said. Nathan drew back a little bit, unsure of what to say. He didn't let the information that Audrey was immune to the troubles, and thus able to feel his touch, slip lightly. In fact he kept it closely guarded in order to protect the woman who'd come to mean so much to him.

Sometimes Nathan thought he was in love with her. Other times he wondered if he was confusing romantic love with a different kind of love and maybe letting the fact he could feel her influence the way he perceived things.

Finally he spoke, cautious. "What makes you think that?"

Dwight tilted his head to the side, something about the way his eyebrow raised screaming 'Holy shit you're a fucking moron.' It made Nathan uncomfortable and, much against his will, he looked towards the blank TV screen.

"I've been telling you since we met, I **fix **things." He put emphasis on the word fix, working it as if it were the key to the whole thing. Nathan shook his head. He imagined he was frowning, but he couldn't really be sure of his facial expressions unless he put the conscious effort into making them. Still, he felt like he should be frowning. "It's another part of my…troubles. When I touch things it's like…something tells me how to fix them. I know the perfect way to get to a heart of the problem and make it better or the perfect thing to say or do, or can manage to get a person what they need."

"That's it then. My father knew what you could do and used you to clean up all of the messes the troubles caused." Nathan let the whole thing unravel in his head. "Is that why he never said anything about you, because he didn't want to expose you?"

"Maybe. It is an interesting skill. Some people with intentions not as good as your father might want to hold being Troubled over my head to get me to use what I can do for less than pure purposes."

"Because hiding bodies and cleaning up after freaks is pure."

"Sometimes." There was a pause between them then: "I mean, did you think your father trusted me to clean up things in Haven because I'm so good with my hands? …I am, by the way. Good with my hands I mean."

Nathan looked back at the blond, not sure what to make of the sudden casual tone. Dwight stared at him intently and, once again, Nathan looked away in discomfort. There was something in Dwight's eyes, like he could see into Nathan. Audrey looked at him like that sometimes, but her looks usually held a touch of sadness and pity. He knew she didn't consciously feel sorry for him, but cared about him enough to wish that he didn't have to live like he did. When she came in and checked his coffee in the morning he could see the closed off look on her face, and he knew that whatever she was thinking would be the thing that came between any chance of a relationship between them.

Dwight's gaze held neither, and instead seemed to be more a…curiously interested nature. But, more than that, there was a kind of heat behind it.

"I'm not fixed." Nathan said, wanting to break the silence and stay on the topic at hand. It was a safe topic, or at least as safe as anything ever got in his life these days. Sitting and talking about the Troubles and the various oddities people were afflicted with…that was easy.

Dwight's hand invaded his field of vision, reaching for his own. There was a hesitation and Nathan drew in a breath, suddenly nervous. Thoughts ran through his head, each worse than the one before. What if it was a onetime thing? What if he'd somehow imagined it? Maybe he was finally losing it, like so many of the other troubled people in Haven did.

Dwight's hand touched his own and, as if a flip had been switched, sensation returned. Nathan was expecting it this time (hoping for it at least) and yet was still surprised as his whole body suddenly returned to him. He could feel Dwight's hand (roughened skin and calloused fingertips) on his own and the chill of the beer seeping into his fingertips.

That gave him pause. He could feel Audrey, but only where they were touching. She didn't make it so he could feel other things. She was immune to his trouble, but she didn't 'fix' it as it were.

"That is…" Nathan started then trailed off, not sure how to finish his statement. He breathed then tried again. "That is a lot more useful than just having bullets tend to find you."

"Considering the lack of holes in you, I think you should respect my Trouble a little bit more." Dwight's fingers tapped against the back of his hand, drumming out an easy rhythm. Part of Nathan felt like breaking contact would e the only proper thing to do here, but another part of him wanted to soak in the contact.

He set his beer down then flexed his fingers, willing the cold away from them. The silence between them stretched until it became almost oppressive. Nathan knew that the longer they sat there saying nothing the harder it would be to say anything and that, eventually, Dwight would draw back and then Nathan would once again be left with his curse.

As if hearing his thoughts Dwight's fingers stopped their drumming. Nathan looked up; finding the other man staring at him with a surprisingly open expression, worry warring with the lust Nathan had suspected was there. Dwight blinked and then coughed, a flash of embarrassment making its way over his face before it smoothed into something more neutral.

"Eventually I'm going to need my hand back. I think maybe you should go."

Another pause and then Dwight shifted, clearly intending to finally break the contact between them. Nathan turned his hand, catching Dwight's before he could pull back. Dwight frowned slightly, eyes darting away from Nathan from a moment.

Nathan's brain rushed to catch up with the situation, trying to weigh his options quickly. Dwight was attracted to him, that much was a given. Dwight was attractive and Nathan wasn't unfamiliar with the concept of sleeping with another man. There had been offers, in his life, and while he'd never taken anyone up on the offers it hadn't been because he found the idea unpleasant.

The last time Nathan had been able to feel he'd lacked the opportunity to do much with it, in spite of Duke's offers to find him a woman to spend some time with.

"I…that is." He tried to swallow around the sudden block in his throat, to order what he wanted (and maybe needed) to say. "I could stay."

"This has the potential to be awkward. More awkward." Dwight amended. "Not that I'm against having company for the night but I'm pretty sure it would fall into the area of 'Using my troubles for personal gain' if I took advantage of the fact that I can 'fix' you."

Nathan hesitated for a moment then decided to, just this once, put all his cards on the table. "I think I would be taking advantage of you, more than the other way around."

This earned him a small smile. "I'm okay with that."

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There was going to be sex here but, alas, I have to go to work. I might have something in a day or two.

Follow up: Someone was kind enough to point out my frequent misspelling of Audrey, for which I am grateful. I get my 'd' 'b' and 'p' messed up a lot, and if not for spell check making sure I have the right letters my writing would be a clusterfuck. Sadly Audrey and Aubrey are both actual names, so it didn't make the catch for me. Alas, it will probably continue to happen.


	2. Break into Me

Broken Open

Author: DImitri Aidan

Rating: Uhhh. T?

Pairing: Nathan/Dwight. Just cause

Summary: Nathan goes home with Dwight after the incident at the police station and learns that some people are more 'troubled' than others. Being a handy man, for Dwight, is maybe a little bit skill and a little bit destiny.

Notes: In which the story gains a plot. Kinda. No sex, but not to worry, I'll be getting back to that. I had a scene, but it ended with Nathan blacking out and thus wasn't as much fun as I wanted. Also, I'm pretty sure Nathan is making the -_- face through the entire first scene here. Maybe the o_O face at the end.

Title: The song for this tale is 'Broken Open' By Adam Lambert. I will, at some point, edit the first bit to reflect this change.

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Break into Me

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Nathan woke up, mind foggy as he stared contemplatively at the ceiling above him. This was not his bed. He could be confident in that fact that this wasn't his bed because, at the moment, he didn't actually have a bed. After his father had died he'd moved back into his childhood home but hadn't actually unpacked anything except his clothes yet, and those he'd shoved into his old room. He was sleeping on the couch these days, still not sure what to do in the house. He didn't want to sell it, but if felt very empty without his father's presence.

He and the chief hadn't always been on the best of terms (and by always he meant 'at all') but he was coming to realize that, in spite of their differences and even with all the things that had been kept from him, his father had loved him.

That counted for more than Nathan had ever thought it would.

He pushed himself up, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness of the room. It was a simple bedroom, a large bed, a dresser and closet on one wall, a computer desk and door that lead to a small bathroom on the other, and finally a closed door. He slid from between the sheets, looking down to survey the floor. Hardwood and free of anything he could hurt himself on without realizing it. Next he turned his gaze to himself and felt a touch of alarm when he realized he was completely nude.

Some people probably would have been really bothered by this, but Nathan had a history of being knocked out/injured and being picked up by people in Haven. More than once he'd woken up in someone's home, patched up and confused, after an accident. His troubles were public knowledge and so people (who weren't afraid or disgusted by him) tended to be kind and ready to help.

Still, he'd never woken up totally undressed before. He frowned, trying to clear the fog in his brain and remember what had happened. Had he taken a blow to the head or…He cast his eyes around the room, a burst of memory coming to him. He shuffled to the end of the bed, not at all surprised to find his clothes in a messy pile there.

"_I think," Dwight said while glaring balefully at the buttons on Nathan's shirt. "That it would be easier if you let me cut this off." _

_Nathan smiled. "I like this shirt." _

_Dwight rolled his eyes then moved in, lips covering Nathan's. Nathan closed his eyes, drinking in the feeling of warm lips, the rasp of stubble, and the tickling feeling of Dwight's hair against his skin._

Right. Nathan had temporarily lost his mind and decided to fuck one of the four people he was confident he could trust in Haven, something that seemed like a horrible idea now. But random sex/one night stands probably always seemed like a bad idea in the light of day.

Nathan wasn't well versed in that kind of thing, not having a very 'casual' personality. Despite that he supposed this was the proper time for the awkward morning after conversation.

Nathan pulled his clothes on quickly then opened the door. Dwight's bedroom was off of the kitchen and upon entering he found it totally empty. A quick look around the (very) small apartment found that Nathan was indeed alone.

Well, that saved him the awkward conversation he supposed.

What he did find, perhaps to make up for a lack of Dwight, was a coffee pot left on and half full of coffee with creamer, sugar, and a mug sitting next to it, and a white box with a 'Dot's Bakery' sticker slapped on top. There were post-its stuck to the pot and the box, one saying 'Drink Me' and the other 'Eat Me' in big block lettering. Nathan smiled in spite of himself.

A donut and a cup were procured and then Nathan found himself sitting at the bar that separated Dwight's kitchen from his living room, staring a small framed picture situated on the corner. It was a young girl, all big eyes and messy brown hair, dressed in what Nathan thought was a white dancing outfit. (Nathan wasn't big on dance and didn't make it a point to know what kind of things little girls wore while dancing.) She had a pair of bunny ears situated on her head and a very large, very out of place, pocket watch dangling from her hand.* Dwight stood behind her, a hand on her shoulder and a smile on his face that could only be described as adoring.

Nathan frowned, suddenly feeling very out of place.

_He stared down at Dwight, heart thudding so loud in his chest that if he'd been in a more 'aware' state would have bothered him. At the moment, however, it was hard to focus with the other man's mouth on his cock. Dwight had gotten him out of his clothes and onto the bed then went straight to work. He'd taken his dick, pumped it a few times in a large work-roughened hand, then closed his burning hot mouth over it and-_

"_Ah!" Nathan jerked forward, hands fisting the sheets of Dwight's bed. _

_The other man chuckled, vibrations running up Nathan's shaft, and he groaned in response. He fisted a hand in Dwight's hair, wrapping the soft strands around his fingers as he lost himself to the feeling of wet heat drawing him in. _

He reached and turned the photo so it was facing away from him.

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Dwight wanted to feel bad about leaving his apartment before Nathan had woken up, but he couldn't quite get himself to that point. Leaving avoided that whole painful element of waking up next to someone you probably shouldn't have been waking up with. He had never liked those long silences, forced conversation, and halting attempts at explaining the night away; he didn't see a point in going through it with Nathan.

A call from Duke had given him a perfectly plausible and reasonable excuse to leave, and he'd been more than happy to take it. He'd grabbed donuts from the bakery across the street and left them for the other man then headed out, feeling only slightly guilty. It was wrong, he knew, to have given Nathan access to human touch and the ability to feel only to slide out in the morning without a word.

But Dwight would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little bit self-serving. Last night was proof enough of that.

He parked his van outside of Duke's place then, noting the 'closed' sign on the door, reached for his cell phone to call the other man. Duke had been renting it out for a baby shower and it seemed things had gotten a little heated between the mother to be and the mother-in-law. The mother to be had apparently hit her limit and began to scream.

That scream had shattered glass, windows, and knocked her mother in law into the wall hard enough to cause a very distinct human shaped dent. Thankfully the actual party hadn't begun so the only people to witness the event were the pregnant woman, the now unconscious mother-in-law, and a drunken sister-in-law, all of whom were now at the hospital. Duke had called, hoping Dwight could help him get the place cleaned up and 'normal' by lunch.

Dwight stopped, eyes falling on a familiar vehicle. What was the Reverend doing here? Dwight would have thought that, in light of Duke's wife's death the night before, he would want nothing to do with the bigoted old fuck. He set his phone down and leaned forward, hands coming to rest of the steering wheel.

Something was wrong here. He didn't dislike Duke, but he didn't trust the man. It wasn't anything personal, or at least an un-personal as disliking a person could be, but he'd known people like Duke and rarely did they turn out to be anything other than trouble.

Haven had enough Trouble, as far as Dwight was concerned.

He waited, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. He didn't have to wait long; Duke and the Reverend emerged from the Gray Gull, the older man talking while Duke nodded and seemed to be listening intently. Driscoll stopped abruptly, gaze falling on Dwight.

He smiled politely, putting on the mask he always did when dealing with the Reverend his and 'flock' and hopped out of his van. He strode forward, watching as the Reverend frowned and said something to Duke, who looked just slightly panicked as he replied. Both stopped as soon as Dwight was in earshot and Driscoll fixed a smile as fake as the one Dwight wore on his face.

"Mr. Hendrickson, how good to see you."

Dwight nodded. "You too Reverend."

"I was just talking to Melissa about you. In spite of your many failings the poor girl seems to still miss you quite a bit." Driscoll's smile turned sympathetic, but his eyes held the trace of disgust Dwight was used to. "I do wish you'd see the light and consider joining us. There is always hope for change! Isn't that right Duke?"

Duke's face was pained, even as he nodded. "Amen Reverend."

Driscoll seemed pleased with this and, with a condescending pat to Dwight's arm, crossed the parking lot to his car alone. He left, leaving Dwight to stare down at Duke who, to his credit, stared back unflinchingly.

"Thanks for coming out," Duke said finally, looking away from Dwight and towards the water. "I appreciate it but the Rev called some of his people to come help with the clean up."

Clean up without covering up of course. Quite the opposite probably, the reverend would spread this as far and fast as he could to further divide people in Haven. Even pregnant women couldn't be trusted, or something along those lines.

"You never struck me as the religious type."

"I'm just looking for answers."

Dwight had heard that before, from his ex-wife. They'd managed to separate on almost amicable terms, amazing considering Dwight had cheated on her and broken her heart, but after Lizzie had died a gap had opened up between them that couldn't be bridged. She'd gone to the Reverend, seeking answers and comfort, and had instead come to the conclusion that the Troubles, and the people touched by them, were the source of all of their issues. She seemed to think they could get past them if Dwight just allowed himself to be 'cured'.

He wasn't exactly sure if the 'Cure' related to his Trouble, the cheating, or other 'failings'. Either way he wasn't interested. Where the death of their daughter had shattered Melissa and left her unable to pick herself back up, it had broken Dwight and allowed him to see his life for what it was.

"You understand that if you end up on the other side of this, and did something to hurt Audrey or Nathan, I'd make you disappear? Nothing personal of course." Here Duke looked at him again, a bark of shocked laughter erupting from his mouth. "It's just what I do."

He clapped Duke on the shoulder in what may have seemed like a friendly gesture from the outside but was really all about Dwight making sure his point hit home. He headed towards his van, mind already on his next job. The lights were acting up in the girl's locker room at the high school and Dwight had been called in to take a look.

He half thought it might be a simple electrical problem and half expected to find some manner of Troubled teenage boy using his powers to sneak around in the locker room.

"Right. Covering up murders, hiding bodies, and helping Nathan falsify reports so people can get away scot-free." The bitterness practically dripped from the words Duke shouted at his back. "It's just what you do."

Crocker was going to be an issue, Dwight was sure of that much.

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*In my head this is how a little girl playing the White Rabbit in a Haven retelling of Alice in Wonderland would look.

On another note, I wonder about Nathan and his 'curse'. We have conflicting messages in this show; on one hand we're lead to believe it started when he was 8, but on the other hand we have Nathan telling Audrey he isn't a virgin, but hasn't had sex since he lost the ability to feel. I suppose both could be true but that would more disturbing than I'll allow my brain to comprehend. At first I reasoned that maybe the curse comes and goes, but I have no evidence to support that. I'm curious about the thoughts of other's on this issue.

Other stuff: Fixing a few things, missing words and junk. Carry on.


End file.
